


Solace

by Chironex



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Lance is a good uncle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27447670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chironex/pseuds/Chironex
Summary: Arthur came home feeling horrible, but Lance wouldn't let him stay that way on his watch.
Relationships: Arthur & Lance (Mystery Skulls Animated)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Ready the summary for context.

* * *

As the sun began to set, rays of sunshine passing through the clouds magically started to change, diffusing light into different lengths.

Yellow, orange, red; the colors fell upon the land, as if enfolding it from sky to ground with a silent, thin veil.

Violet, purple, indigo; the natural light would be gone soon, already revealing shy stars up above. Lance would need to work on his pieces inside, or else.

Truly, he wouldn’t mind staying outside a bit longer. The day had been refreshingly cool and breezy, in contrast to the usual exceedingly hot workdays. That would certainly calm his mind, if a more pressing matter wasn’t aching at the back of his mind.

Laying the mechanical piece on a table inside, he removed the toolbelt and gloves, and wiped his face with an old cloth piece. He looked at the door leading inside the house, then gazed down upon his hands: rugged, rough and harsh... The kind of hands not made for soothing. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a long sigh.

Lance knew it awfully well what to expect, but that didn’t make it any easier. He, well… _sucked_ at moments like this. An old mechanic wasn’t the best choice for the much-needed emotional support Arthur needed, but sometimes you have to make do. Besides, like hell he wouldn’t help his nephew in a time of need.

He entered the house and made his way to Arthur’s room. The door, slightly ajar, gave him a bit of confidence to approach his nephew. _“At least he didn’t lock himself inside.”_

\- “Hey, Artie.” He announced himself and entered, knowing there would be no response to the knock.

Arthur was sitting on his bed, perfectly still, his back against the wall and a pillow on his lap. He raised a glance at his uncle and his mouth formed a shape, as if about to say something… But his lips didn’t parted. Instead, his eyes focused back at seemingly nothing in front of him. Just looking silently at his dim room, as if waiting for something to happen.

That somehow made Lance feel even worse: the deafening silence was another thing he didn’t knew how to deal with. Still, he further entered the room, not turning the lights on. Approaching the young man, Lance sat beside him on the bed as softly as his burly frame allowed.

He knew there was no point in asking banal questions. “Are you ok?” or “how are you feeling?”. He wasn’t ok, and he wasn’t feeling good, or else they wouldn’t be in this situation. Instead, he just looked at his nephew, who still hadn’t moved. He looked downright miserable, somehow even skinnier than usual and with heavy bags under his eyes. His _eyes,_ Lance noted, slightly red from crying.

 _“So… fragile.”_ Lance had no intention to point it out, but Arthur was possibly the most vulnerable person he knew, all thanks to his kind heart. It was like he was made of glass, about to fall apart at the touch. Once, Lance wouldn’t have imagined such a cheerful and bright boy could bear so much sorrow…

Alas, the old days were gone, and Lance had to focus on the present. He brough a hand to Arthur’s shoulder, thanking the gods the boy didn’t flinched at the touch. Rubbing his hand back and forth on his shoulder and back, Lance waited for the right moment to get just a bit closer, trying to transmit safeness and care.

Sometimes, physical affection is the best remedy to an afflicted soul.

Lance could feel the difference in the air. Arthur was breathing more deeply, and wasn’t as still as before. He moved his hands over the pillow, fidgeting his fingers as if unsure of something. The older man simply smiled at him, trying to be reassuring. The first time a situation like this happened, Arthur was so closed off to everyone Lance couldn’t imagine he would come to trust him so much.

\- “Come here boy.” Lance asked him, gently pulling the pillow into his own lap instead and giving it a little tap.

Arthur averted his eyes for a second, but gave in and adjusted himself to lay his head on the pillow.

As soon as he did, still facing the room, Arthur closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

He knew it was silly to think about it, but… Last time this happened, Lance spent a long time stroking his hair slowly, until he fell asleep. Arthur wouldn’t be picky about it, but he also sure wouldn’t mind if he did that again.

And sure enough, a strong warm hand was placed on top of his head, steadily caressing through his hair and softly into his scalp. Despite the rough hand, Arthur could feel the carefulness of his uncle as he gently fondled his locks.

It wasn’t like he needed that at all, Arthur told himself. He would be just fine if given enough time alone, like always. For a moment he felt bad about taking the time of his uncle for himself, but Lance had made absolutely clear before that he didn’t minded at all, and to call him whenever he felt like it. It was reassuring, but he still felt a bit guilty. People wasting time and effort into him, when in return he would only get them in trouble… Thoughts like that are what made him come into this situation, in the first place.

He tried to empty his mind before it happened, but to no avail. Tears emerged again, even with closed eyes, silently dropping upon the pillow.

He felt like a little kid weeping on his mother’s lap, and maybe he really was, at some extent. Arthur didn’t knew much about how a mother-son relationship was supposed to work, but he wouldn’t ask any more from his uncle than that. Lance was kind, but still a hardy man; if he would ignore appearances to comfort his nephew, Arthur would gladly accept it. Laying on his lap thinking about that made him, instead of guilty, feel very much dear.

The hand on his hair felt increasingly more comfortable, allowing Arthur to relax back into calmness and silence. He thought about his friends, his job, his uncle and about his future. The farter his mind drifted away, the more his consciousness slipped from the waking world.

He thought have heard the humbling of a familiar song, before fully giving in to sleep’s kind embrace.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> That was my "fanciest" work, considering my english isn't perfect yet.  
> If you spot any errors of have any grammar suggestions, PLEASE let me know.


End file.
